I don't Jones for nothing 'cause that's a waste. Waste of space in my frontal lobe. And I just sit, deal with it, don't have a fit. Do you know what I'm sayin'?.
Everything seems turning. And the jam starts to break circles. And red and not pink. . I know it's not my place. But something to face. My economy seems to be.
I don't Jones for nothing 'cause that's a waste. Waste of space in my frontal lobe. And I just sit, deal with it, don't have a fit. Do you know what I'm sayin'?.